


A Good Day To Stay In

by elle_stone



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Snow Day, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_stone/pseuds/elle_stone
Summary: Rockin' Around the Christmas Treeends and the announcer's voice comes on, big and booming like Santa Claus, with the weather."...Snow, snow, snow. So much snow it's fair to say that the whole town is CLOSED for the day. If you go to school, any school: closed. All local colleges: closed. Most businesses: closed. If you do not absolutely have to go outside today, it's a good day to STAY IN."





	A Good Day To Stay In

**Author's Note:**

> For cordeliataras on tumblr, who requested some Jonty fluff.

Jasper wakes him up with something that smells good and something that makes noise. There is a soft high-angled yellow light floating in through the bedroom window. Monty never wants to get up, but as he starts to come online again, slowly like pulling himself up and out of the water, out from under waves of warmth and drowsiness that want to drag him down, he wonders what time it is, how bad it is that he is still (mostly) asleep.

But being mostly asleep just feels so good.

"Mmmf," he says, and turns his face in toward his pillow. "Wha's'at?"

Jasper's laughter, soft as the sunlight, answers him from somewhere above. Then, closer—he must be kneeling now, and he's brought the sound and the smells closer too—the sound is Christmas music, jolly and cheery—"It's me. And your radio and some hot chocolate."

Monty opens one eye. The radio is a small battery powered thing he's had since high school, and usually it lives in what is still, technically, his room. Its big speaker-eye stares back at him. _Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree_ ends and the announcer's voice comes on, big and booming like Santa Claus, with the weather.

"...Snow, snow, snow. So much snow it's fair to say that the whole town is CLOSED for the day. If you go to school, any school: closed. All local colleges: closed. Most businesses: closed. If you do not absolutely have to go outside today, it's a good day to STAY IN."

He laughs, and Monty pictures a jolly fat Santa in the station booth, tipping back in his chair and holding his belly. Monty opens his other eye, and pulls himself up onto his elbows. He rubs at his eyes, taking everything in.

Jasper is watching him, expectant and giddy. "Yes, I let you sleep in. It's eight. Here—merry snow day, Monty." And he holds out one of the two large mugs he's holding.

Hot chocolate, as promised, with little marshmallows floating on top.

Monty sits up slowly, takes the mug—hot, but not too hot that he can't wrap his hands around it—and sips at it gingerly. Jasper makes the most fucking perfect hot chocolate in the universe, and even though Monty was warm before, under their blankets, surrounded by their excessive number of pillows, he feels himself suffused now with something beyond warmth. Something like coziness itself, filling him top to toe. He sighs, and lets his head fall back against the headboard, his eyes closing.

When they were kids, they were obsessed with snow days. They’d look up snow-related superstitions and experiment with them all: shaking snow globes, putting spoons under their pillows, sleeping with their pajamas inside out. And when their nefarious plans worked and they woke up to a snowfall strong enough to cancel a whole day’s worth of classes, Monty would make the trek down the street to Jasper’s house, still in his pajamas, where they'd spend all day in mindless pursuits and conversation, the outside world no more than a blur of white outside the window.

Much like the world outside their window now. Snow has utterly blanketed the lawn, weighs down the trees, obscures the next-door neighbor's hedges.

"What do you think," Monty says, now, as he turns his attention to Jasper again. "Snow days as an adult: better than when you're a kid, or not as good?"

Jasper pretends to think about that for a while. And as he does, Monty clears out space on the bedside table for both of their mugs, sets his aside and motions for Jasper to get up off the floor. He pulls back the blankets. They rearrange the pillows.

"Better as an adult," Jasper decides, finally. He's climbed up over Monty's legs to settle on his side of the bed, and wrapped his legs like tree vines around Monty's legs, his arm around Monty's stomach and his chin on Monty's shoulder. "Because we get to do this."

"Mm—there was that one time in high school, though," Monty reminds him, not quite able to keep his straight face.

Jasper rolls his eyes. Kisses his nose.

Kisses his mouth.

Jasper tastes like hot chocolate, warm and wintry, but his bare arms are cold from wandering the rest of their apartment, and so are his feet. It's a problem. Monty pulls the blankets up over him as if he were making a small fort just for them two, and lets his hands wander, mumbles excuses like, "Can't stay in bed with me if you're so cold."

"It's my bed," Jasper reminds him. Just a whisper in his ear, and a smile pressed against his jaw. "I could kick you out, if I wanted."

"Soooo power hungry."

Sometimes trying to be closer feels like a power struggle, one against the other, and sometimes like a battle against the universe itself. Why don't bodies fit together more perfectly, when you want them to; why does space always try to intrude? But not today. Today every tiny movement does what he intends it to do. Every readjustment feels right. Every second feels better than the last. That coziness that is deeper and softer and more intoxicating than mere warmth could ever be builds up between them as hands travel up under clothes and limbs slot together around limbs and the blankets safely guard them from the world outside themselves, from even the rest of the room.

"Please, I was _just_ waiting on you," Jasper reminds him. His hand is splayed against Monty's side, taking the measure of him. "I—"

But, embarrassed for some reason Monty does not quite understand, he cuts himself off, then, and offers another kiss instead. And that's okay. Outside it's still snowing, and the radio has started playing _Walking in a Winter Wonderland_.

"Yeah, I guess I owe you one," Monty concedes, and then for some time after, they don't bother with talking anymore.


End file.
